Rain
by Ava Cabot
Summary: Now you hear Olivia’s side of the story, where she tries to avoid having Alex’s tragedy haunt her life, and wonders if all of this is her fault. Now, she remembers.
1. Rain

Ava Cabot  
  
Rain  
  
A Law and Order: SVU fic  
  
Summary: "Because even the clouds in heaven are not strong enough to hold all the tears of mourning lovers, crying over the worst kind of pain: heartache". Alex reflects on Olivia.  
  
Disclaimer: of course I don't fringe on Dick Wolf's ownership...though I do like to borrow characters.  
  
Dedication: thank you for being a completely awesome beta, aquablurr. To all A/O writers: I was deeply impressed. Kudos to all of you!

The first morning had to be the worst of them all.  
  
Months later, I am able to stabilize my life, my new identity, my new being. But until now, I was lost in the Program, unable to walk through life as boldly as I had before. I was lost in myself, unable to see the difference between who I was and who I was forced to become.  
  
As they told me, one mistake and I would be dead.  
  
Alexandra Cabot died five months ago. I was given a new everything. With two personas floating through my life, even I don't know who I have become anymore.  
  
All I know is that I miss her.  
  
The first morning hurt more than the gunshot wound had. Waking up in an unfamiliar apartment, alone, was terrifying. Waking up without her warm body beside mine stung even more. I was alone in a strange place, and I didn't have her to comfort me.  
  
Everyday in this town, it rains. I've become fairly accustomed to the weather, if anything, and never leave the house without boots, a heavy raincoat, and an umbrella. That and cooking my own dinner have become habits that mean nothing now.  
  
She and I kept everything closeted, and strictly professional: drinks, casual dinners with the other detectives, and leaving early from either apartment before check-in at the DA's office or the stationhouse. No one would ever know, we figured. Maybe it was best that way, keeping everything a secret. Elliot probably had figured it out before I left, but didn't say anything out of respect.  
  
Maybe no one else realized what Olivia and I did because we were too good at hiding it. I dated other lawyers, never truly interested in them, but played it off that I was having a good time. Olivia and Elliot could have had something. The way they flirted was obvious, but not obnoxious. We dated men to hide our own relationship that no one but us could understand. We were good actors, but then again, we had to be.  
  
Sitting here alone in my bed makes me wonder, sometimes, if I would ever return to New York. I watch milky shades of blue, gray, and black reflect against my sliding glass door, the small flower box set on my small porch hopelessly flooded. Rain cascades down the window above my head, the cold seeping through my numb body. Tangled in a knot of white sheets, I curl even tighter into a fetal position. I just want to disappear into the cold, and lose myself. Drown myself in rain, tears, and waterfalls that flood my mind with images of Olivia's face. That's what I want to do. Suffocate myself with thoughts her.  
  
Maybe I don't want to think about her.  
  
Forbidden love. That's what we had with each other, love that could never be revealed to the public eye. Tongues would fly if they heard that an ADA was involved with one of her detectives. A female one, at that. The gossip would ruin our careers, and maybe even drive us out of town. Well, perhaps not that extreme, but both our lives would be changed.  
  
It all started with drinks one night.  
  
One damn drink changed everything for the both of us. Winning a case left the entire team in high spirits, as they dragged me to a local bar and toasted to another victory for the good guys. Everything seemed to blur after a few hours.  
  
I walked fairly steadily out, saying quiet goodbyes to everyone, who shouted for another round. Olivia caught my eye and grabbed her coat, following me out as she slung the sleeves through her arms.  
  
"Bit unsteady, aren't you?" she said, her voice unusually clear.  
  
"Not really," I replied easily, trying to keep my voice from slurring. "I'll call a cab."  
  
Olivia continued to follow me out through the bar alley, watching me stumble slightly over my own feet.  
  
"You want me to drive you instead?" she asked, hooking her arm through mine.  
  
"No, but thanks." I glanced at her, my clouded blue eyes against her clear brown ones. "Why the offer?"  
  
She shrugged, "Can't a friend offer another friend a ride home? It is New York.  
  
Not exactly the safest place for a half-drunk ADA to be wandering around at night."  
  
"Who says I'm drunk?"  
  
"Me."  
  
"And you can tell, because...?"  
  
"Because I know you."  
  
I burst out laughing. "Thanks, Olivia, but I doubt two glasses of wine will drive me into a drunken oblivion."  
  
"I can't wait to hear about your hangover tomorrow," she teased.  
  
"What hangover?"  
  
"The one you'll have after drinking five glasses."  
  
"It was only two."  
  
Olivia tilted her head, watching me lean against a wall. "Damn cabs," I muttered.  
  
"Come on, I'll drive you."  
  
"Don't you need to return the sedan?"  
  
"I'll let Elliot worry about that."  
  
"You are a very good partner, you know that?"  
  
"You're very drunk, Alex."  
  
Back then, I wished I'd had more self-control. I wished I could have avoided Olivia, never giving in to whatever dark thought crossed my mind. She tempted me like no man had ever before.  
  
Wished. Tempted. Past tenses of a past no longer mine to take advantage of and abuse.  
  
Now I regret never spending more time with her. In that shadowy alley filled with broken dreams and rusting glass bottles. Olivia tasted like old wine and new promises, filled with hope for a better tomorrow.  
  
It's her black satin sheets that I remember most. She saved them for nights when I needed to be comforted. Folds of dark silk fanned against my face during those nights, where I'd sleep in her arms until she gently shook me awake. Her touch was never anything but gentle. Anything else wasn't in her nature.  
  
Hiding out in her apartment like teenagers keeping a forbidden secret gave us some kind of buried thrill. Her smile could shine through darkness, and now, that's what I choose to remember most. Not the look of horrid shock when I was shot. Her smile, which would pierce through every obstacle we faced.  
  
Now I sit here in a godforsaken town, alone, thinking about my past mistakes. Across my window I trace her name, my finger etching along the cold glass in blurry cursive. Every letter is separated by multiple curlicues, as I decorate her name with tears from my glassy eyes. I allow myself to cry, because that's all I can do. Cry and wonder what I did to deserve this life, hundreds of miles away from New York, and most of all, Olivia.  
  
More than anything, I want her.  
  
There's nothing left for me, as I struggle to break away from the broken life I left behind in New York. All I can do is cry, praying that someday, I can return to her.  
  
Words catch in my throat as I speak to the soft pattering of raindrops outside.  
  
I miss you.A/N: betaed by the fabulous aquablurr. To all A/O writers—I hope I've written something worthwhile. I read up on a bunch of A/O stuff on svufiction.com and was extremely impressed. Feedback is appreciated! Thank you.  
  
Thanks, Ava 


	2. Love Isn't Protection Enough

Ava Cabot

Love Isn't Protection Enough

A Law and Order: SVU fic

Disclaimer: Their mine! Mine! wakes up Oh damn, they aren't mine.

------

There was a special place in my heart reserved for her.

Now residing there is an empty hole. Knowing that she was as good as gone in the Witness Protection Program hurts even more. The concocted lie spread around by the FBI that Alex was dead should have made things simpler for me, bringing some sense of closure.

At first, it had been hard to tell if she had really loved me, that it wasn't just a drunken mistake to kiss her in the alley that night, wine still fresh on my breath.

The first time I had let her stay over, I wished for the night to never end. She loved me more than any other person I had ever met. Our platonic friendship wasn't meant to last. Before she was lost to me in government hands, I thought we might have been destined for greater things. But when I saw the unmarked car carrying her drive away for good, all hope seemed lost for me.

Faith in everything I had believed in was gone. My reason for living was trapped in the WPP, labeled as just another unsolvable case, another faceless victim, and another worthless file. I wanted to scream and shake the agents who saw her as that. They needed to know how important she was.

In her arms, I could see stars flash in my eyes, dazzling our embracing figures in pale light. When I needed emotional support from a particular case, I went to her. Elliot was my best friend, but even he had his limits when it came to understanding me.

Months after she left, I tortured myself with small reminders of her.

To fool Velez and everyone else who knew her, a grave was dug, with a staged funeral and an empty coffin. The gravestone bore her name, and everyone was made to believe she was dead. Everyone except Elliot and I. We knew the truth, that she had been whisked away by the government for her own protection. I would have given my life for her to stay.

But who was going to listen to a jaded Special Victims detective?

Knowing that she was alive brought me slight solace. It was the glimmer of hope that I clung on to each lonely night, falling asleep alone, wondering what she was doing at that very moment.

I remember visiting her grave shortly after the funeral, assuming I was alone. There, I cursed everyone from Cesar Velez for being the cause of her departure, to myself for ever daring to love her.

Just when I felt truly desolate, I could feel Elliot's commanding presence behind me. His hand rested gently on my shoulder, shaking me slightly, and telling me I needed to go. Blaming myself wouldn't do any good.

I didn't think he would know where to find me. When I told Cragen I needed the afternoon off, he let me go without a second thought. Maybe he knew, maybe he didn't. I didn't think Elliot would come after me.

That was a mistake. He was my partner, and I was stupid to think he wouldn't be able to read my expressions, and not know where I would spend the rest of my afternoon. He instinctively knew where to find me.

There at the gravesite, he rocked me gently, respectfully silent to my endless tears, which were all shed in vain for Alex's return. If I cried and cried, maybe she would return.

At least, that was my thickheaded, optimistic wish after I felt a dull ache spread through me, hurting more every day without her presence.

Deep within my subconscious, a mean voice inside my head tore apart that desire, constantly spitting out that Alex would never return. Despite my efforts, the person I had come to love was gone, and no amount of wishing would bring her back.

It was a truth I could never completely acknowledge. My one selfish longing in life was clinging to the whim that someday, I would see her weary body trudging from the horizon, coming home to New York, coming home to me. Then, I could once again stare for hours into her sapphire orbs, losing myself in her all-knowing gaze until dawn.

I spent too many nights merely asleep beside her warm frame, instead of hugging her as close as I could have. Now, months after she's disappeared, I can only regret not appreciating her beautiful presence even more.

I remember when they cleaned out her apartment, two months after her "death". I ended up keeping much of her memorabilia, insisting that I would keep it in storage until she returned. In reality, I just needed reminders of her. I couldn't forget her or what we had. Days before they disconnected her phone line, I called the apartment, waiting for the answering machine recording, just to hear her voice for those brief seconds.

Now all I have left are memories of the two of us.

Just to torture myself even more, I bought a bouquet of white roses last night. Now, sitting alone in my empty apartment, I just stare at the illuminated blossoms, trying to make sense of a tragedy that never should have happened. The roses smell like Alex, and as I bury my face in them, watering the stems with my own cold tears.

It's then I realize that there's nothing I can do to change the past. I was foolish enough to believe that my love for her was enough protection. Now I realize that I was wrong, and all the events that have affected my life were inevitable.

Maybe Alex is thinking the same thing, wherever she is. All I hope is that she misses me as much as I miss her.

There's just one question I want to ask her, though.

Why did you have to leave so soon?

----

A/N: A/O angst just tears at my heart. Remember, reviews are highly appreciated


End file.
